nobody's perfect
by lauraxtennant
Summary: Rose is having one of those days where she feels insecure.


The Doctor was walking past Rose's open door on the way to his own room when he heard her let out a huge sigh.

"Everything all right, Rose?" he said from outside.

"Yeah, I suppose."

She sounded despondent. He knew from experience that Rose wasn't the sort of person who liked to be left alone when she felt that way. But usually she expressly asked him for a hug or something, too. He frowned, hovering in the doorway for a couple of seconds before taking a few steps into her room.

"Can I come in?" he asked. She was standing in front of her full-length mirror in her pyjama shorts and vest top, and their gazes met in the reflection.

Without turning to face him properly, she nodded. He walked over to her and arched an eyebrow. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Clearly that's not true," he said softly.

She shrugged, and her eyes dropped from his to follow the length of her own reflection. "Just having one of those days, you know?"

"What do you mean?"

Rose blew out a long breath. "One of those days where you notice one little imperfect thing and then you can't stop thinking about every single flaw you have for the rest of the day." She glanced at him, must have seen his blank face, and laughed a little. "Guess you're too vain for that? Time Lord superiority?"

"Don't be daft." He shook his head. "I know what insecurity feels like. Granted, haven't had cause to feel it much in this body - " He adjusted his tie. "- at least not in regards to my looks. But I've been known to wallow." He pointed at her, then. "You, however, have nothing to wallow about."

"Now who's being daft," she grumbled, facing the mirror again.

He stepped closer to her, and peered into the mirror in confusion.

"What?" she asked.

"Just trying to see if you've opened a portal to another universe in this thing, or something."

She bumped her shoulder into his chest, unable to hide the way her lips curved up. "Idiot."

"I'm serious!" He tapped the glass and hummed. "Must be faulty."

"Doctor, come on. You don't have to pretend I'm perfect."

"You're not perfect."

Rose rolled her eyes. "You don't have to say _that, _either."

"Well, you're not. Besides, 'perfection' is incredibly subjective."

"That makes it worse," she complained.

"Why?"

"Because that means that even in your _subjective_ view I'm not - oh, shut it." She nudged her shoulder into him again, and he realised he was smirking at her.

"Look, I never said you're not beautiful." He met her eyes in the glass again. "You are. You know you are."

She shifted, looking uncomfortable, but didn't break his gaze. "Thanks, but…"

"But what?"

She cleared her throat, then listed, "My mouth's too wide, my eyebrows are too thick, my boobs are too small and my bum's too big."

"You could turn that into a song," he mused.

"Doctor."

"Oh come on, it's nonsense! Applying that awful word 'too' to everything, it's - it's ridiculous! Who measures those things, anyway?"

"Er, everyone."

"Yes, to make you feel terrible about yourself and buy tons of products in attempt to meet some barmy, arbitrary standards of whatever time and place you're from - "

"Says the bloke with twenty seven different brands of hair wax."

"That's different. I _know _my hair is great, and I know that I can make it look even greater with those hair products - look, that's not the point!"

"All right, I get it, I know what you're trying to say. But it doesn't stop me feeling all…bleh, sometimes. Okay?"

He sighed, and nodded. "Okay. But remember; there _is _a statue of you as a goddess standing in the British Museum, so."

She wrinkled her nose. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"Well, think about it. Thousands of people traipsing through that exhibit year on year; can guarantee that at least 83% of them remark about how beautiful that statue is."

"Oh, you can guarantee that, can you?" Rose laughed.

"Of course! Master sculpting, that was. Of course everyone loves it."

"Right." She shook her head at him fondly. "What would I do without you to boost both our egos up a notch, eh?"

"Seriously though, Rose. Where's all this coming from, tonight?"

She leaned into him, resting her head against his shoulder. "Hmph. Couldn't get one of my rings off. My fingers are all swollen since we got back from Hexaron."

He picked up one of her hands. "Just a bit of water retention. You'll be fine." He linked their fingers together. "That tiny little thing really spiralled into a full-blown analysis of your own shortcomings?"

She sighed. "Yeah."

He leant his head against hers. "Humans."

She stuck her tongue out at him in the reflection and he chuckled.

"Remind me what your other supposed flaws are? Let me reassure you about them, too," he murmured.

"It's okay," she smiled. "I know at least half of them are things you love about me, so." Her eyes widened and her smile dropped off her face. "Didn't mean to say that. Shit. Sorry."

He stayed very, very still, holding her gaze steadily. "Didn't mean to say what?"

"That…word." Her face went pink, and he let go of her hand. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she looked mortified, but when his arm slid around her waist to tug her into a backwards hug, her eyes darted back open again.

He crossed his arms around her belly and pressed a kiss to her temple.

"You're wrong," he murmured, and tightened his embrace when she visibly flinched, hoping to reassure her completely with his next words, "I love all of them."


End file.
